


5+1 Kisses, Kimtooth Edition

by EtchCantrellorLightningHeterodyne



Category: The Order of the Stick
Genre: 5+1, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Kleptomaniac Disaster With Trust Issues, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kimtooth, Lawful Brick Wall With Issues in General, M/M, Some heavy makeouts, Soon Kim Writes Poetry And Nothing Will Convince Me Otherwise, They're both messes Soon's just better at hiding it, i love them, no smut tho sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18912226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtchCantrellorLightningHeterodyne/pseuds/EtchCantrellorLightningHeterodyne
Summary: So this is what I've been doing instead of writing D.E.S. because I can't not procrastinate.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Girard kisses him, they’re both stuck in a cave-in and the illusionist is bleeding out.

Soon’s already used his Lay On Hands, but the wound is magical, and the red dragon the six of them were fighting was pissy enough to trap the two of them inside the cave before it died. He’s got Girard’s head on his lap and he’s cradling the illusionist’s face in his hands, trying to use any magic at all to keep the second person he’s ever fallen in love with from dying in his arms just like the first.

Though the two of them aren’t anywhere near a rift, so he could, theoretically, get Girard resurrected, assuming the illusionist isn’t too busy throwing raves in the afterlife.

“If you die on me now-” Soon says “-I’m keeping your Boots of Stealth.”

Girard grins, and blood drips down his chin. The dragon managed to put a claw in the redhead’s side- Soon doesn’t need to cut him open to know that Girard has a punctured lung, that the illusionist is steadily getting closer to drowning in his own blood.

The paladin can keep him alive for another hour. Maybe two.

Kraagor, Dorukan, and Lirian are going to have to work fast if they want the two of them dug out in time for Serini to get back with enough healing potions to save the sorcerer on deaths doorstep.

“S’okay,” Girard rasps. “I’ll just challenge Death to a game of Go, and you’ll annoy me so much telling me what to do that I won’t be nearly as pissed about losing as I usually am.”

“If you  _ fucking _ die now I am getting you resurrected and if you don’t come back I will climb into the heavens and kick your incorporeal ass myself.”

The illusionist looks surprised, from the passion with which Soon says it or from the paladin actually swearing, he can’t tell.

_ I can’t lose you too. _

_ I can’t lose another love like this. _

They sit in silence, Girard processing the words and Soon, consciously or not, carding his fingers through Girard’s finer-than-silk hair. The tie he usually held it back with was gone- probably buried in the cave-in.

_ He looks nice with his hair down. _

The thought is as absentminded as the way he’s finger-combing Girard’s hair, but it’s there nonetheless.

“S- Soon?”

“Yes?”

“...are you in love with me?”

The paladin would have started if that didn’t mean jostling Girard, who doesn’t need any help expanding the patch of blood on his shirt.

_ Where the fuck- how the fuck-  _

“It’s just that you seemed- pretty pissed about me dying. And the last time that happened- was when my mother told me that if I didn’t come back from my quest, she’d kill me.”

_ Choose your next words very carefully. _

“I love everyone in this party. You’re all I’ve got. I won’t lose you.”

“Nah, I saw you when we all thought we were gonna lose Dorukan and you weren’t  _ nearly _ as mad then.”

Soon opens his mouth to respond, and then closes it, turning to look around their small prison instead.

_ I’m blushing. _

_ Damn it. Fucking illusionists who are too hot and too surprisingly sweet and too- too  _ them.

“...so you are in love with me.”  
“Ah- well- um… yeah,” Soon says, sighing and closing his eyes.

“Nice.”

“Are you brain damaged too?”

“Very flattering thing to say to your new boyfriend.”

“You’re brain damaged. Oh gods. Lirian will kill me.”

“Well you’re in love with me and I’m in love with you so I don’t really see why we  _ shouldn’t _ date.”

Soon’s about to respond, and then he looks down.

Girard’s breathing has been ragged for a while, but now- it’s so painfully obvious that the illusionist is dying.

He only realizes he’s started tearing up when Girard reaches up and swipes his thumb across Soon’s cheek to brush them away.

“M’ gonna be fine.”

“You don’t- you don’t  _ know _ that.”

“Yeah I do.”

“How?”

“Cause I hate being in debt so I always pay my debts.”

“What does that have to do with-”

And then Girard kisses him.

He’s not expecting it, so he forgets to hold the illusionist down when he sits up, turns, and presses his lips to Soon’s.

Girard tastes mainly like blood right now, but underneath it is the familiar tingle of magic, and the unfamiliar prickle of foreign spices and desert rain.

It’s a couple beats before Girard pulls away, and he tasted like the blood in his mouth but against all odds Soon doesn’t want him to stop (well, he does, because the illusionist will die faster if he doesn’t, but still).

“There,” he says. “Now I owe you a halfway decent kiss.”

Soon has time to smack a hand over his own mouth, register that some of Girard’s blood wound up on his lips, and start figuring out how the hell he’s supposed to get out of this one when Girard passes out.

Who knew it was possible for things to be relieving and heart-stopping at the same time?


	2. Chapter 2

The second time Girard kisses him, he’s still high on blood loss. The six of them are back in town, settled into one of the nicer taverns, and Soon is left to keep an eye on Girard, who is, while in no danger of dying, still a little woozy.

Soon’s sitting in the chair next to Girard’s bed, and for once, he’s not wearing his armor. It’s been… worrying. He’d stayed up all night next to the illusionist.

Paladins weren’t actually immune to fear. They were simply gifted with the ability to keep a level head and think rationally no matter how crushing the terror was.

Which is why Soon is yes, worried as hell, but not about to panic over it. Girard is still pale, and still out cold, and Soon has gone almost twenty hours without sleep and with a lot of stress, and before he notices it, he’s leaning over and folding his arms on top of the blankets Lirian had piled onto the bed and the illusionist, and then he’s resting his head just for a minute, and then he’s asleep.

~

 

Soon wakes up gradually, and the first thing he registers is that someone is running their fingers through his hair, humming a song he doesn’t recognize.

Either way. It’s a soothing tune, and the hand stroking his hair feels nice, and he’s so, so tired, with the fight leaving a sore burn in his muscles and all the stressing about Girard-

Girard.

Soon opens his eyes, to see the illusionist sitting up with some color in his cheeks again, leaning on his knees, looking at Soon with the softest smile the paladin has ever seen.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he whispers. Soon gives him a worried look, and Girard scoots over, patting the mattress next to him. 

“C’mon. Lirian came in again- we’ll have to stay a couple days since she can’t cast Regeneration, so we’ve got time and a few days off. Relax. Sleep. Gods know you need it.”

Soon glances back at the door, and back at Girard, who pats the bed again. The paladin gives in, toeing off his boots and sliding under the blankets next to Girard.

Girard who is a  _ furnace _ , holy  _ shit _ warmth feels good on his sore muscles.

It takes him a few minutes to realize he’s curled into the illusionist like a cat, and a few minutes more to realize that this qualifies as cuddling.

Girard, who can probably feel Soon’s shoulders tensing, just wraps his arms around the paladin and pulls him closer. Soon gives in and buries his face in the crook of the illusionist’s neck, inhaling the mixture of spices and desert winds and jasmine flowers that Girard leaves on everything he touches.

He’s curled into the illusionist’s chest, and Girard has almost wrapped himself around the paladin by now. He’s resumed running his fingers through Soon’s hair.

“Sleep,” he murmurs, and Soon does.

~

 

The second time Soon wakes, it’s clearly been a while. Girard has an arm around his shoulders, and Soon’s head is resting right over the sorcerer’s heart.

They’re both awake, but they lie there for a while anyway, feeling the most relaxed they’ve ever been. Soft afternoon light filters through the window, and the paladin spares a thought to the fact that this vaguely reminds him of lazy mornings with Mijung.

_ She’d like Girard. He’s interesting, and I know how much she hated being bored. _

They stay like that for quite a while, and eventually, with no warning at all, Girard smiles, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Soon’s lips.

“That one doesn’t count for the debt,” Girard murmurs.

“Yes it does,” Soon replies. “Because it’s been forever since I’ve gotten a lazy morning, and even longer since I’ve gotten a lazy morning kiss.”

Girard smiles. Eventually, they do both get up and start their respective days, but just for a little while, Soon can close his eyes and imagine that it’s another lazy weekend with his husband.

_ I’m in so deep. _


	3. Chapter 3

The third time Girard kisses him,  _ neither _ of them are realistically expecting it. They’re standing in the hallway that’s lined with the doors to their rooms, and they’re fighting.

“I was high on blood loss and you were high on adrenaline. We both said things we didn’t mean.”

“You confessed to  _ being in love with me _ . And I confessed to reciprocating it!” Soon hisses, and Girard’s calm facade crumbles just like that.

“Well I lied! I already lie 24/7 when I’m perfectly sane, I don’t really see any reason why I’d stop because of a hole in my side!”

Girard looks like he actually believes the words coming out of his mouth, and that has the immediate effect of making Soon want to punch him, if only for leading him on.

_ But he didn’t do it intentionally, did he? _

“You- I- I’d figure that’d be the  _ one _ time you were too woozy  _ not _ to!”

“Obviously it wasn’t!” Girard growls.

“I fail to see how that’s an  _ obvious _ thing!” Soon replies.

Girard stops short, and draws himself up to his full height- a few inches taller than Soon, and his eyes are glowing a dark, dark violet.

Again. Like they did every time he was seconds away from punching Soon’s lights out.

_ Wow. Really? Fall head over heels for your party illusionist, and this is how it ends. You, delusional, and him, never speaking to you again. _

“You- you’re a paladin. You’re Lawful, I’m Chaotic, and I’m never going to fall for someone like you.”

“Someone like- what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you were the last person on the planet I’d stab you in the back just to be  _ rid _ of you!” Girard shouts, and it echoes down the hallway like the sound of Dorukan’s explosions.

Soon feels every muscle in his body freeze, though he doesn’t notice the tears on his cheeks until Girard’s expression changes from resolute anger to ‘oh shit’.

The illusionist opens his mouth. Soon walks away before he can say anything else.

~

 

It’s a struggle. Girard keeps trying to talk to him, and Soon keeps refusing to have to deal with the fact that yes, Girard broke his heart, and yes, he’d lost something he never had, and yes, it hurt just as much. 

_ He might not have meant it- _

_ Of course he meant it. _

It takes a week and a half for Soon to be caught unawares. He’s curled into himself (again), in his room (which is empty except for him), and he’s trying not to cry (even though he knows it’s not going to work).

As a result, the paladin doesn’t even hear the door open, or Girard walk over.

He does feel it when the mattress dips as the illusionist sits on his bed, and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Soon stiffens. Girard doesn’t move.

They’re both quiet, for a while.

“You meant it, didn’t you? When- when you said you were in love with me,” the illusionist whispers.

“I fail to see why I would have said it otherwise.”

Girard goes quiet. Soon, despite himself, lets a little bit of tension seep out of his shoulders.

“I’m sorry.”

“I figured.”

“Can you not snipe at me? This is- okay, I’m  _ trying _ to be honest with you, and it’s- it’s terrifying. I’ve never done this is my  _ life _ , and I come from a place where honesty gets you killed at best, and you- you’re not making this any easier!”

Soon blinks, and then he sits up, dislodging Girard’s hand but facing the illusionist.

He does look afraid. He looks  _ beyond _ afraid, like if he says what he’s about to say someone’s going to throw them both into a rift.

Girard has a hand resting on the mattress. Soon laces their fingers together.

“...alright. I’m sorry. Please- please continue.”

The illusionist doesn’t pull his hand away, and Soon counts it as a win.

Girard inhales, and looks at the wall across from him, and Soon gives his hand a squeeze.

It seems to help.

“I lied. Not- really surprising. But- I didn’t lie to you when I was high on blood loss. I- It’s-”

“You’re scared,” Soon whispers.

Girard takes a shaky breath, and nods, and Soon leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“So am I,” the paladin says, and the redheaded sorcerer looks shocked as all hell to hear that.

“But I’m willing to get past it if I can do it with you.”

Girard gives him the most hesitant smile, and Soon grins awkwardly in response, and then the illusionist kisses him.

It’s short, just a brush of lips to lips, but Soon still feels high as a kite afterwards.

Then Girard smirks, and leans in again, and holy  _ shit _ he’s good with his tongue, and Girard seems intent on memorizing the inside of Soon’s mouth, and the paladin feels his cheeks flush and he  _ whimpers _ when Girard pulls away.

“ _ That _ -” Girard pants, “-is how I pay my debts.”

Soon winds up on the illusionist’s lap, and Lirian very briefly pops in to make sure neither of them are dead, and promptly pops out when she sees the two of them enthusiastically making out on Soon’s bed.

“Serini owes me ten fuckin’ gold,” the druid mutters, shaking her head as she walks away.


	4. Chapter 4

Soon’s never been so terrified that the Aura of Courage  _ failed _ since he became a paladin.

He is now. Because this is- this is  _ bad _ . This is the beginning of so many nightmares and the reason he spent so many nights awake and the reason he asked, after every rift they sealed, who wanted to leave.

None of them ever did. Soon, to this day, isn’t quite sure why.

The rift is huge, the Holey Order is trying to protect it costs be damned, and-

And-

The six of them and the ten remaining acolytes are standing around the  _ pit _ that has formed beneath the rift, all crumbling edges which are far too close to the pulsing blue-purple-red mass marking a hole in reality.

Every single one of them has been beaten to shit. Lirian is leaning on Dorukan, taking weight off an ankle that might be sprained and might be broken, both of them sporting a black eye and a split lip each. Dorukan looks like he’s using Lirian’s weight to drag  _ his _ weight off of badly bruised ribs, and the two of them are covered in cuts and gashes. Soon can see more skin that’s bruised or bloody than he can see clean and uninjured.

Unfortunately, nobody else in the party is faring any better.

Serini got knocked off her sniping perch, and the sound of her right leg breaking on impact had even the Holey Acolytes wincing. Now, the rogue is huddled behind a pile of stones crowned with the body of one of the acolytes, trying to keep weight off her broken leg as she fires over the corpse of the person who dislocated her shoulder (how she manages it, Soon doesn’t know).

Kraagor might have it worst. Blood flows freely from his broken nose and from the- gods, there must be hundreds- of cuts on his body, and he’s gotten one of his teeth knocked out, and even all the way across the pit Soon can see  _ four _ arrows sticking out of his back. It looks like one of his fingers might be broken, too, because the dwarf only swings like that when he’s trying not to scream in pain as a direct result, and he’s not putting  _ any _ weight on his left leg.

Soon himself is limping on one sprained ankle, taking the weight off of where the Holey Order’s brawlers had broken his leg in two places. His Lay on Hands is gone- it’s the reason his leg is broken in two places instead of ten, and why his ribs are bruised and not shattered. Cuts and gashes pepper his torso and arms, one of them cutting cleanly along his cheekbone and across the bridge of his nose. Blood is dripping into his eyes from the scrapes along his forehead.

Even so, he can see clearly enough to tell that Girard- the illusionist had been the first to start quipping and the first to start getting attacked- is currently the healthiest of all of them. The illusionist is, yes, covered in his own blood, but his clothes don’t look like they’ve been redyed recently, he doesn’t seem to have any broken bones, and despite the  _ obviously _ sprained wrist, the redhead seems to be fighting with comparatively few problems.

He’s practically dancing- as he always is, in a sword fight, and the acolyte he’s locking blades with seems to be having a fair amount of trouble. Soon may have been one of the best swordsmen on the southern coast, but Girard had survived the Western Continent for a  _ reason _ .

You didn’t last long there if you couldn’t stab somebody no matter how hard they tried to stop you.

The illusionist is ducking and dodging and weaving, and he may be a bit too close to the edge for comfort and he might be fighting with his back to the god-killing abomination, but he seems safe enough so far, so Soon doesn’t complain as he takes out the acolyte he’s currently fighting, even as Dorukan Fireballs another three and Lirian grabs her boyfriend’s staff and whacks a fourth, who doesn’t get up again. Kraagor gets his two, and the dwarf immediately sits down, content to remain on his now-empty side of the cavern and wait for healing spells. Serini’s gotten steadily closer to picking off two of them- and she finally does, even as the second of the last acolyte on the pit’s edge runs  _ right _ into one of Girard’s swords.

Soon almost smiles.

And then the leader of the acolytes, seeing their chance, puts a hand on Girard’s chest and shoves the illusionist backwards, and Girard falls, and-

-Soon’s-

-heart-

- _ stops _ .

Rocks skitter, because one of Girard’s feet is still planted on the crumbling ring of the pit, and the illusionist looks…

He looks resigned.

Like he figured this might happen when he wound up fighting where he did.

Like he’s not surprised or upset or afraid or angry, he’s just-

-tired.

It’s been less than a second, and Soon isn’t even sure he’s  _ breathing _ , he can’t- Girard- the rift- the Snarl-  _ no, no nonononono- _

The paladin will spend the next three months thanking the gods for Kraagor every time he prays for his spells. He’ll only stop because the dwarf will ask him to.

The barbarian lets his ax clatter to the ground as he backs up and gets a running start and  _ leaps _ across, slamming full force into Girard’s back and knocking them both back onto solid ground. The acolyte who almost  _ unmade _ the illusionist barely has time to glance over as Soon,  _ seething _ with rage, drives a sword through his gut and watches the man choke on his own blood.

Paladin-like?

No.

Extremely satisfying to see?

_ Absolutely _ .

The Holey Order is nothing but corpses, now. Girard is reeling, but the illusionist turns and wraps Kraagor up in a bone crushing hug.

The dwarf shrugs it off, and Soon barely notices any of this happening, because the paladin isn’t quite sure if he’s breathing too quickly to get any air or if his lungs stopped working at the same time as his heart did.

He hasn’t felt like this since he was twenty.

Soon can’t tell if he laughs or not when he realizes that this is him  _ panicking _ , Aura of Courage -apparently- be damned. Girard almost  _ dies, body and soul, _ and  _ Soon _ is panicking?

It takes him a minute to realize that he’s shaking like a leaf, the same unconscious tremors he used to get when he normally experienced that weird combination of adrenaline and sheer terror.

He can’t move.

He can’t breathe, he can’t _think_ , and he’s either as still as the stone he’s standing on or he’s shaking so hard that his armor is rattling and _he can’t tell_ _is he breathing is he dead Girard’s alive- Girard-_

It feels like forever and like a half-second at the same time- it’s probably been a few minutes- when he feels a pair of arms pull him into a hug.

The scent of spice and wind and jasmine registers at the same time as the fact that the person hugging him radiates more heat than the sun, and Soon- he is shaking, hard enough that Girard is too- wraps his arms around Girard and buries his face in the illusionist’s shoulder.

The paladin takes a minute to realize that he’s crying.

“I’m okay,” the illusionist whispers.

Soon still can’t speak. He just hugs Girard tighter and trembles and cries.

Eventually, the two of them wind up sitting on the floor, leaning on Serini’s corpse-topped rock pile. Soon still hasn’t let go of the illusionist. He isn’t sure he could if he wanted to.

Girard, fortunately, doesn’t seem to mind.

 

~

 

It takes them less than five minutes to get three rooms from the best inn in town- apparently the Holey Order has been a local terror for a while. Lirian and Dorukan call the party meeting in theirs.

Nobody says anything. The six of them sit in silence until Lirian curls up on the bed, Dorukan curling up with her, and the other four of them just get up and file off to their respective rooms.

Soon still can’t make himself let go of Girard, and he’s still shaking like window shutters in a hurricane, but he’s stopped crying, so there’s that.

Girard pulls them both into their room, shutting the door softly behind them, and he pulls Soon a little closer and doesn’t say a word.

They stand there like that until the paladin stops shaking, though Soon doesn’t move from where he’s- again- buried his face in the illusionist’s shoulder.

“I’m probably going to panic over this tomorrow,” the redhead whispers. “But right now I’m just… calmly glad to be alive. And you are… I want to say terrified, but the Aura of-”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Soon says, voice a tad muffled since he’s unwilling to let go of the proof in his arms that Girard is okay, alive, he’s  _ fine _ -

-and Soon shouldn’t be panicking. Girard’s fine.  _ Girard _ is the one who almost got  _ unmade _ and Soon has no right to-

“Stop it,” the illusionist orders.

“What?” 

“Beating yourself up for having a heart attack.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are.”

Soon doesn’t really have a response for that, because Girard is  _ right _ , and the paladin decides to just hug him tighter in response.

He’s still not okay, even though after so long with his arms around Girard you’d think he would be.

The illusionist has alternated between running his fingers through Soon’s hair and rubbing circles into the paladin’s back, but now he reaches a hand up to cup Soon’s cheek, drawing the paladin’s head up. Girard’s smiling ever so softly, and all the love in the  _ world _ is plain on his face and that alone has Soon blinking back tears because the illusionist  _ loves _ him.

He trusts him enough to love him.

Girard’s smile widens a bit, and he leans his forehead against Soon’s, just breathing the same air for a little bit.

“I’m okay. I love you. And I’m okay.”

“I love you too,” Soon whispers.

Girard kisses him like he’s made of spun glass, and normally that might bother him but right now it’s comforting.

Soon kisses him back, and there’s something sweet and soft and desperate and afraid about both of them, but right now they’re alive.

Right now they’re safe.

Girard very gently pulls the paladin towards the bed, pressing feather-light kisses to every cut and bruise on his face, which makes Soon smile, which makes Girard happy.

Eventually, they wind up in almost the exact same position they did the day after the dragon- Girard is on his back, having snaked an arm around the paladin’s shoulders, and Soon’s got his head pillowed on the illusionist’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Girard lasts two minutes feeling the tension in his boyfriend’s shoulders before he starts purring, and Soon starting out of his very slight doze would have been funny if he hadn’t only  _ just _ stopped trembling five minutes ago.

“Sorry,” Girard mutters sheepishly. 

But Soon relaxes, and grins, and he’s a little less tense and wound up now than he was before, so Girard counts it as a win.

“You never told me you could purr,” Soon murmurs.

“It’s a pretty jealously guarded secret among dragons. Most of them can purr, barring some sort of damage or curse or whatever than prevents it. Sometimes it gets passed down to non-draconic descendants.”

Soon hums an acknowledgement, and falls asleep to the purr and the pulse of his favorite person.

No matter what happens, he can thank the gods for, at the very least, that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I've got twelve days left of school so my teachers have all either caught senioritis or are cramming all they can and there's no in between.


	5. Chapter 5

When Girard gives him what will probably be his last kiss,  _ everything _ has fallen apart.

Serini’s compromise just barely stops Soon from  _ throttling _ Dourkan because Mijung had been a  _ person _ not an  _ excuse _ -

It’s the last time he’s ever supposed to see any of them. His best friends ( _ his favorite person, the love of his life _ ) are parting ways for the last time.

He’s said goodbye to Dorukan, he’s given Lirian and Serini their hugs, and now…

Soon wrote poetry in his free time. He’d only ever written poetry  _ for _ two people.

Mijung.

And Girard.

The paladin is clutching the ribbon-tied stack of papers that mark every poem he’s ever composed about the illusionist, because he likes to think that Girard wants something to remember him by.

He’s standing by the unlit fireplace of the long-empty hall the s-

The five.

The five of them had commandeered.

Soon’s footsteps echo like war drums in the empty space, and he’s not quite sure he should be doing this.

He comes to a stop behind Girard anyway. The illusionist is staring into the dusty grate, looking at something other than the rusted metal.

He glances back when the paladin starts fidgeting with the stack of papers in his hands, and turns around when he notices how nervous Soon seems.

Girard looks almost as heartbroken as Soon feels.

“I’m sorry,” Soon whispers.

It echoes anyway.

“I am too,” Girard replies.

Soon hands the stack of paper to the illusionist, and Girard, before Soon can move to leave (for the last time), kisses him.

Odd spices and desert rain and old magic.

That’s what Girard tasted like.

Things Soon had never tried, never seen, and never had.

Tears are streaming down both their cheeks, and Soon is hit with the realization that he will never see Girard’s ice blue eyes turn glowing violet again.

That he’ll never get to run his fingers through the illusionist’s rippling, finer-than-silk hair, because they’ll never get the chance. Girard will never start purring in his sleep while Soon can smile from where he’s resting on the illusionist’s chest.

He’ll never get to curl up with his boyfriend and use the resulting body heat to soothe the burn in his muscles after a day of encounters.

He’ll never get to curl up with his boyfriend, period.

Girard breaks away, and presses a small box into Soon’s hands.

“What was that?” Soon asks, in the most broken whisper he’s ever heard.

“That was goodbye,” the illusionist murmurs in return.

For just a minute, he stays anyway, hands cupping Soon’s face and Soon’s tears on his fingers.

And then Girard pulls away, and steps back, and starts walking.

He only looks back once- just once. The illusionist pauses at the door, and gives Soon one heartbroken look with those blue, blue eyes.

And then he walks away.

Out of the hall.

Out of Soon’s life.

The paladin lets himself fall to his knees, because he will never love another as much as he loved Girard.

Because he lost Mijung, but so did the world, so did everyone and everything, but he lost Girard with nobody left who he could share how much that hurt with.

He sits there long after he knows the others have left, wondering how long Serini would stay to build the tomb. How far Girard would get convincing himself he hated them all. How many more spells Dorukan would learn. How many more animals Lirian would tame.

‘How many more enemies Kraagor would defeat’ should have been on that list.

It wasn’t.

_ He _ wasn’t, not anymore, not now.

Soon looks down at the tiny box in his hands, and opens it. A small piece of paper falls out- the paladin picks it up and unfolds it carefully, reading the little note through the tears pricking his eyes.

_ I bought it when we first got to the dwarven lands. It was spur of the moment, but the jeweler gave me a discount for saving her brother, and I’d already planned on asking for a while. _

_ I love you. I’m sorry everything went wrong before I got to tell you just how much. _

Soon looked down, at the perfectly crafted silver ring sitting on the velvet lining. The thick band was covered in the engraving on it- a dragon, breathing fire onto the star sapphire set into the ring, and three words in Draconic runes carved into the body instead of scales.

_ Law and Chaos _ .

Law and Chaos.

_ ‘Go grab Law and Chaos,’ Dorukan said to Serini as she came downstairs. ‘I found another rift.’ _

_ ‘Well, if we had Law and Chaos here, the bickering might distract the witch while Girard forgot he was supposed to be casting an illusion!’ Lirian shouted at Kraagor, as the dwarf commented that he was glad they hadn’t dragged the two along with them. _

_ ‘HEY! LAW AND CHAOS! GET OVER HERE AND TELL THESE PEOPLE HOW TO MAKE A RELATIONSHIP WORK WITHOUT MARRIAGE COUNSELING!’ _

_ ‘Law and Chaos can probably solve your princess problem on their own. Now, about the rift in your garden?’ _

_ ‘When did we start calling them Law and Chaos anyway?’ Serini asked from her position on the couch. The two of them had just found out about their nickname. ‘When we decided it sounded better than Good and Neutral,’ Lirian replied from across the room. _

_ ‘We’re definitely gonna be the longest lived couple in the party,’ Lirian said. She and Dorukan were betting on the various survival rates of the members and their relationships (again). ‘I’m not sure,’ Dorukan murmured. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if Law and Chaos kept saving each other’s asses until they both died of old age and wrote it into their wills that they wanted to share a grave.’ _

_ ‘Pfft,’ Serini said, when Lirian told her about her and Dory’s conversation earlier that day. ‘Law and Chaos are gonna be together until the end of  _ time _. We’re gonna die and those two will flatly refuse to enter the afterlife because it means they can’t share a house anymore. They’ll just live on the clouds and we’ll have to pop in and visit them.’ _

Soon only realizes he’s shaking when he stops being able to read the inscription on the ring.

It was beautiful. It was _ perfect _ .

The paladin looked down at Girard’s note.

“You were going to ask me to marry you,” he whispered.

The paladin folded the piece of paper back up before his tears could take the chance of making the ink run.

“ _ You were going to ask me to marry you _ ,” he sobbed, in an empty hall, with a broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have actually broken my own heart writing this.  
> ...  
> I still regret absolutely nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, ReconstructWriter, for your comments. They never fail to make my day.

Soon is aware of the fact that paladins shouldn’t break promises. However, when the high priest of Dragon came to Azure City with a message for him- that message being a smack upside the head and a ‘go be happy, dumbass’, which seemed oddly undignified for a god, but you figure that Soon’s managed to at least ping their radar, what with saving existence- and a mission, Soon came to the wise conclusion that you really just shouldn’t argue with the gods.

When the mission the priest gave him turns out to be insanely easy, even though the end result of it was Ronjo and Aki thinking he was dead, Soon gets a sneaking suspicion of  _ why _ the gods chose that particular priest.

Soon makes twelve attempts to return to Azure City and rejoin the Sapphire Guard. When every single one of them, no matter how foolproof, is thwarted by some twist of fate or other, Soon takes it to mean that the gods don’t actually want him to do that.

‘Go be happy.’

Well, the four people on the planet who make him happiest are scattered to the four winds, but that’s never stopped Soon before and it doesn’t stop him now.

Serini finds him first. She was never one to retire- so it wasn’t exactly a surprise when she popped up on the path in front of him.

The two of them go collect Dorukan, who is all too happy to take a vacation from fighting with his employees, and then Dorukan calls Lirian, who walks out of an oak less than ten seconds later.

The four of them and Kraagor’s axe- Serini kept it, and none of them can stop themselves from thinking of it as a remnant of their favorite dwarf  _ or _ an inanimate additional party member- wind up making their way back down south, just across the mountain range that separates the Northern Lands from the Southern ones. 

Originally, they were just going to stay a couple nights and then continue on their way to collect Girard.

Of course, nothing the Order of the Scribble does ever goes to plan, so the four of them are lounging around a city and house browsing for Dorukan and Lirian-

(‘I think it’d be nice to have a sort of summer home,’ the druid had said. ‘And we’re taking a five-year vacation anyway, we’ll need a place to stay. Serini can house sit for us. She’ll be the local rogue.’ ‘I’m down as long as I get my own storage room,’ Serini replied. ‘Yeah, you will,’ Dorukan said, and from the way he was focusing on his spellbook, Soon’s pretty sure he doesn’t know what Serini just said, but oh well).

-when Soon winds up sitting in one of the nicer taverns of the city, drinking something sweet and only slightly alcoholic, staring- not for the first time, not even for the first time for hours on end- at the ring on his left ring finger.

The note lived in his Bag of Holding, but Soon had started wearing the dragon-carved, draconic-engraved, silver and star sapphire ring after Ronjo asked about it and Soon changed the subject, and it almost got stolen by one of the nobles.

Said noble had wound up paying for a Regeneration on three of their fingers.

He’s watching the light catch on the stone and split into a six-point, brilliant star, even though the rest of the sapphire remains a murky, almost black, midnight blue, when the stool next to him gets pulled out by some adventurer or other, and Soon glances up at him, and almost drops his drink when he sees who it is.

Girard has some grey in his hair, the same way Soon does, but other than that, the paladin can barely tell he’s aged.

“How long have you worn it?” the illusionist murmurs.

“Eight years.”

Girard gives a not-quite laugh, and orders something Soon doesn’t catch.

“Then we’d probably ought to start planning the wedding, hm?” 

“Did- okay, it’s been-”

“Twelve years.”

“Yes, and you’re just going to ask me out of the- of course you are, it’s you- I’d like to figure out how to be in a relationship with you again, first.”

Girard smiles at him- the same smile he only  _ ever _ gave Soon, the one that was soft and loving and made his eyes sparkle- and Soon glances at the bartender, who’s busy at the other side of the tavern, and then he leans back over and kisses Girard.

Both of them are grinning.

“Love you,” Girard says.

“Love you too,” Soon replies.

 

~

 

It’s about five months, living in that city in the house across from Lirian, Dorukan, and Serini’s, of Soon wearing the ring and Girard teasing him about it and the both of them relearning each other and catching up and being in love, before Girard asks Soon to marry him for a fourth time, and Soon says yes.

Serini buys them both tasteful but expensive outfits (tasteful mostly applying to Soon, because Girard was… Girard) and Soon pointedly doesn’t ask where she got the money for silk and embroidered velvet. 

Dorukan magics them up a pair of enchanted wedding rings less than two hours after they tell him. Two silver bands- one with a sapphire, and one with an amethyst, both stones glowing faintly- and he insists on officiating on top of it.

Lirian verifies that her, Dorukan, and Serini were the only ones invited, and then takes over their (thus far intensely neglected) backyard. The druid grows an altar, several artfully laid out flowerbeds, and a large patch of grass overnight.

Serini calls dibs on being ringbearer, promising not to steal them. Dorukan has the two write up their vows. Lirian gets the local bakery to give her a discount on a small cake.

Before long, the day arrives- Soon and Girard get ready, helped by Lirian and Serini respectively, and Lirian magics up a pair of flower crowns for the two. Dorukan- who got his licence as an officiant less than a week ago- puts on his best robes, and Serini wears an actual dress. Lirian is dressed in a nicer version of her usual clothing, and Soon and Girard- wearing the most expensive clothes they’ll ever own- are standing at the altar, holding each others hands, grinning like the lovestruck idiots they are.

Kraagor’s axe is embedded in the ground between them. Serini is standing next to Girard, holding the cushion with the rings on it, and Lirian is standing next to Soon, having cast her spell which caused it to rain rose petals on them for a solid five minutes. Dorukan is actually underneath the arch of branches- Soon and Girard are just in front of it.

“Assholes and Lirian,” Dorukan begins, and Soon groans at the same time as Girard snickers.

Then again- it’s the Order. Nothing ever goes as expected.

“We are standing here today with watering eyes in the face of the sheer amount of blooming flowers there are in this yard. We are standing here with smiles because two of our most beloved friends decided to get over themselves and finally become the married couple they were always destined to be. Normally I’d keep pontificating, but I think that if I talk much longer Girard will stab me, so Girard, please read your vows.”

The illusionist gives an exaggerated sigh, and Soon giggles at the look on Dorukan’s face.

Then Girard turns to Soon, and the paladin is almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of love in his eyes.

“Soon Kim. When we first met, you were a pain in the ass. That hasn’t changed in the slightest.”

Laughter, from Lirian and Serini.

“But… you are my favorite person. You make me happy, and you keep me grounded and out of prison. Much as I hate to say it, you’ve been a good influence.”

Girard takes a breath, and steels himself for what he’s about to say.

“So… confession time. When I joined the Order, I wasn’t… in a great spot. I didn’t care if my bad decisions got me killed, as long as they were my bad decisions and not somebody else's. And then I fell in love with you, and… all of a sudden, life was no longer about surviving. I  _ had _ to stay alive- because I couldn’t bear the thought of the look on your face if I didn’t. You gave me a reason to survive, but you gave me a reason to  _ live _ , and if I’m being honest, the second one means more to me. You helped me rediscover the planet through the eyes of someone who had faith in it. I watched you stumble and fall flat on your face as the world looked on or laughed, and you… you never lost that faith in people. And you never lost your faith in me, no matter how many times I tripped you, and you were… you were the first person who believed in me. Who really, really believed in me, despite my alignment and my choices and my actions, you never stopped thinking I  _ could _ be better. And… I don’t think I’ll ever be good aligned. Not even for you. But I do think that you made me realize what being good aligned  _ meant _ . What faith in the world meant. And you are- you are the first person to have any faith in me at all, and you are the only person who I will ever care about more than myself. Thank you for a life worth living, you stoic poetic ass.”

Soon and Girard are  _ both _ crying when Girard is done. Lirian is smiling, just a tad misty eyed, and Serini gives a happy sniffle as she dabs at her eyes.

Dorukan sniffs loudly, tears streaming down his face, and he nods at Soon.

Soon grins, and looks at his- gods, at the end of the day, Girard will be his  _ husband _ .

“Girard… you are the love of my life.”

There’s the moment of silence, as everyone processes that, and Girard’s eyes widen when he does.

Soon continues.

“I’m not sure how much more I love you than I loved her- but I think- I think I do. My first wedding had a hundred people attending and the ceremony was a half an hour long, and I never thought that I’d have a second one. I never thought I’d find a way to love someone that much again. Of course, you’ve never given a damn what my expectations were, you just merrily destroyed them, so in retrospect I really should’ve seen this coming. But… whether I could have or not. She made me feel meaningful. But you- you make me feel  _ alive _ . You took my black and white world and doused it in color, and you are the only person to this day who’s successfully managed to knock me off the straight and narrow.”

Again, Soon pauses, and he doesn’t keep speaking until Girard bursts out laughing and the other three groan in unison.

The laughter subsides, and Soon continues.

“I’m so infinitely glad you did. Because you… you made me feel alive again. You made me feel like I was  _ allowed _ to feel alive again. No amount of knowing Mijung wanted me to be happy helped me feel any less guilty when I was, but you… you made me realize I could move on without forgetting her. You made me realize I wanted to. So thank you. Thank you, because I never stopped believing in the world or the people in it, but you- Girard Draketooth, you reminded me  _ why _ I believed. You reminded me why I liked writing poetry about the people I loved, and- yes, I know, you hate to hear it- you reminded me why I became a paladin of the Twelve Gods in the first place. Why I believed in people enough to want to save them. I love you more than anyone, and I will physically fight anyone who says otherwise.”

Girard is crying. Soon is too. Dorukan is sobbing his eyes out in time with Serini. Lirian casts Calm Emotions on the officiant.

“Okay- okay. Serini, rings?”

Serini hands them both the rings- Soon holds the sapphire, and Girard the amethyst.

“Soon Kim, do you take Girard to be your lawful wedded husband, to protect and be protected by, to love and be loved by, to hold and be held by, for as long as you both shall exist?”

Maybe it was odd. That the two of them had chosen to swear vows that ended with their souls, rather than their lives. But after their quest, after the Snarl… ‘until death do us part’ felt too impermanent for both of them.

“I do,” Soon says, and slides the sapphire and silver ring onto Girard’s finger.

“Girard Draketooth, do you take Soon to be your chaotic wedded husband, to protect and be protected by, to love and be loved by, to hold and be held by, for as long as you both shall exist?”

“I do,” Girard declares, putting the amethyst ring on Soon’s right hand.

“Then by the power vested in me by the local church, the paperwork you two filled out earlier, and four all-nighters, I now pronounce you Law and Chaos. You may kiss the groom.”

Girard grins, and Soon kisses him.

They keep kissing for a bit longer than strictly necessary, and only stop when Lirian clears her throat.

“Cake’s inside.”

“Sweet,” Serini says.

Eventually, the halfling scampers inside, followed by Dorukan and Lirian, walking hand in hand.

Soon and Girard stay wrapped up in each other’s arms outside for a little longer.

“I love you so damn much,” Girard whispers, about to start crying (again).

“I love you too,” Soon replies.

They walk into their house, arm in arm, to cut the cake before Serini gives into herself and eats it all.


End file.
